I thought, no wonder Brahms had it in for Tchaikovsky. The overly bombastic finale, the oh so cute pizzicato scherzo movement. Even the emotional 1st movement seemed so overwrought. Yet here I am of my own choice, about to perform Tchaikovsky’s fourth this weekend, not as last stand 2nd violin, but as conductor of the Los Angeles Youth Orchestra. And with a far different understanding this time around…